


You're My Only Hope

by BookMonsterEliz



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, We'll see what happens - Freeform, it was wiggling around in my brain begging to be written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookMonsterEliz/pseuds/BookMonsterEliz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, this deviates from the end of the movie. Instead of running off to save Finn, Rey stops to pick up Kylo Ren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> This has the potential to be long, but I'm working on writing other things at the moment. Let me know if you wanna see more. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edit: I've edited the chapter to flow a little more smoothly, not so beat around the bush about them being thrown into a tie fighter. Thanks for the feedback, MikyAngel and 13oct

Rey fought on instinct, letting the Force flow through her and guide her actions, pushing aside feeling to float in its serenity. She let it channel hidden depths of strength, not thinking, but moving. Kylo Ren fell at her feet, and the Force’s spell over her broke as she let the great swelling of relief flow through her. 

_ Finn. _ She had to get to Finn. Rey pushed herself forward, feet numb, teeth beginning to chatter. Her head was beginning to ache again, the colossal pain that had been temporarily ignored, and then forgotten, in the Force returning. 

“Finn. I have to get Finn.” she murmured, remembering Kylo Ren slashing his back. 

Kylo Ren. Hurt. The light within him she’d felt while she drifted in the Force, so small, but there, pulled at her. She stopped, and turned, reaching out in the Force for his light saber. It flew through the air and into her hand. With a curse, she tucked it into her belt and jogged back to him. She had to save him, she owed it to Han, to Leia. Oh, Han. Bile rose in her mouth, and disgust burned in her, red hot, but still she strode forward to stand above his bleeding form. 

He was still alive, she could feel it. Dizzily, she dipped her shoulder and did her best to drag him up and half onto her back. One laborious step after another she pushed forward, one hand forward, using the small bit of the Force still swirling in her blood to push the falling trees away. Her head ached and ached, and black began to bleed into her vision, but still she pushed forward, towards Finn. The ground shook beneath her, sending her to her knees, with Kylo Ren a crushing weight above her.  _ Finn _ , she had to save him,  _ FINN! FINN FINN FINN!  _ She shouted his name as the snow turned black and unconsciousness claimed her. 

 

……

The pain felt like fire, fire burning across his face, in his gut. Kylo Ren pushed against it, but his strength was gone. A rough, strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him up, up towards the smell of trash. He tried to flinch away, but didn’t have the strength, consumed in the pain rolling through his body, echoing in his mind. He can feel his Master twisting it, laughing, angry. He had failed.

“General Hux, I have him. And the girl.”

The words floated through to him, as if through glass. Even in his pain filled haze he recognized Captain Phasma’s voice. The sewer stench, however; was new. A small part of his mind warned of danger, but he ignored it, caught up in the disapproval, no, anger, his Master was feeding to him through the Force. His father, oh, his father. He’d killed him, he’d proven himself, couldn’t his master see his devotion? 

He felt his Master’s laughter tear through him.  _ Yes, you killed him, but then you failed me. You lost. You are weak. There can only be one apprentice. That is the way of the Sith. You are weak, she is strong. You are dead to me. _

A scream tore out of his body as his awareness of his Master vanished. He felt alone, more alone than ever, and so exposed. Suddenly, it came rushing back, the sight of his father’s face, so open, love and sadness shining in his eyes. 

A cold metal floor beneath him jarred him to a higher awareness of his surroundings. His mind reeled, grasping at straws to place his surroundings. Sleek chrome walls filled with butons and displays, a back to back chair in a cramped space. Someone had dumped him in a tie fighter. A familiar sharp nose sneered down at him, and he struggled to pull himself together.

“Oh, and don’t forget to take his lightsaber, Phasma.” General Hux said before turning on his heel and leaving, smug in his victory.

“Yes sir.” Phasma said to his retreating back.

His eyes opened again as she searched his robes, prodding carelessly at his hurt side, pulling him up to check the back of his belt. Anger surged through him. They couldn’t take his saber. His Master would never forgive him then. He harnessed his anger, using it to put strength into his command. 

“You will not touch my light saber.”

“I will not touch your light saber.”

“You will tell General Hux that you took it.” 

“I will tell General Hux that I took it.” Phasma repeated, woodenly, before releasing her hold on him, causing him to fall back to the floor. 

Kylo Ren groaned in pain as she stood and turned away. He tried to push himself back up into a sitting position, but the strain was too much. He closed his eyes in pain as the floor beneath him began to hum as the tie fighter took flight. The room rocked and he lost his grip on consciousness. 

………….

 

Rey drifted awake slowly, the softly incessant beeping bleeding into her dreams. Her head pounded, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to burrow deeper into the dreams of home and the future, of warm sand dunes and even warmer arms. Her brow furrowed in confusion when her eyes finally did open and she had to blink slowly a few times before anything came into focus. She was sitting in a cockpit, a tie fighter. A red alarm beeped on the dash in front of her, as a missile traced its way across the screen, a dangerous little red blip. Instantly, she went into overdrive, and moved to alter her ship’s course but stopped short, held back by cuffs chaining her wrists and legs to the chair.  
“No, no, no! Please, NO!” she screamed in frustration.   
A figure behind her moaned in response, causing her heart to beat even faster.   
“Who’s there?” she said, voice sharp.  
She received no response, but she did not need one as she began to register the feel of Kylo Ren’s dark presence through the Force. It was subdued, asleep. She could sense that he was hurt, physically and emotionally.  
“Kylo Ren! I know you’re there. Wake up! Ben, I need you! Please!”  
The console chirped again, giving a two minute warning. She held her breath, willing him to rise, desperately hoping he was not chained as well. Then she could hear him try to stand, moaning at the pain in his side.   
“Ren, you have to get up. We’re trapped in this fighter and there’s a missile trailing us, and two more tie fighters. We have less than two minutes, and they’ve bloody strapped me to the chair!”   
“We have to warp out of here.” he said between heavy breaths.  
“I can’t get to the controls, you idiot!” she screamed.  
To her relief, he dragged himself towards the console, half standing, clutching painfully at his stomach.   
“I don’t remember how to fly.” he admitted, fingers hovering over the controls, shame flashing across his face.  
“Fuck, fuck, ok. I need out of this chair. We can still do this. Here, look inside my head, I’ll tell you what to do.”  
He nodded and she pushed her thought forward at the same time she felt his dark presence pushing into her mind. She fed him a picture of the button she wanted, the one to speed them away, and the sequence of buttons she hoped would give the engine the needed power. As she relayed the information his fingers worked pushing and pulling the asked for levers and buttons. They accelerated, pulling away from the missile and Rey held her breath, anxiously waiting for the kick into hyperdrive, but it never came.   
“It’s not working!”  
“Damn! They must have disabled the drive capability. I need out of this chair!”   
Kylo Ren’s hand went to his belt, and he growled when he came up empty.   
“Here’s it’s in my tunic, left side, in the pocket!” Rey said, hoping she wouldn’t regret this decision.   
He eyed her warily for a moment and then took a wobbly step forward, his bloody hand leaving a crimson smear on her light tunic as he regained his saber.   
Rey knew a moment of fear as it sparked to life, one long red blade of energy, swinging towards her. She sighed in relief as he simply burned through her chains.   
Wasting no time, she descended on the control panel, throwing brief mental commands for help at Kylo Ren as she worked. He obeyed without question, and together, they regained control of the ship, keeping one step ahead of the missile. The two tie fighters hanging behind them quickly caught on. To her frustration, they had been remotely controlling the vessel and they kept trying to regain control. Gaining access to warp was futile; a brief systems check showed that the wires had been cut and a main component had been removed.   
“Kylo, I need you to man the guns,” she said as a blast from one of the tie fighter’s canons hit their shield, depleting it.   
She took over the controls as he stumbled to the seat behind hers. Thankfully, he did not need instructions on how to work the gun. Before too long, only one ship followed behind him. He began to target it as they continued their elaborate dance with the enemy ship and the missile locked onto their ship.   
Wait. Rey pushed another thought towards him, suddenly seeing a way out. Hold your fire. The missile is not going to blow until it hits it’s target- or a target.   
He caught on immediately. Get us closer to the other fighter, and drop speed so the missile is close, I’ll blast it towards them.   
Getting near the other fighter was tricky, but Rey managed it, dropping speed and shooting down towards the planet below, rotating their craft so their guns faced the other. True to his word, Kylo Ren blasted the missile, not the fighter, and as he did so, they reached out in the Force together, pushing the missile back, towards the other fighter. It exploded in a ball of fire, but not before their ship took one last volley of shots from their doomed opponent.   
They both screamed as their ship rocked, throwing them around the small cockpit. They fell, pulled into the planet's gravity. Together, they pushed out with the Force, hoping to slow their descent, pushing against the strain on their already tired bodies, fighting every second as darkness won.


	2. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo Ren find themselves stranded, bloodied and battered.

The sharp sting of smoke burning in her lungs woke Rey. Coughing, she struggled to breathe, pain radiating through her body. She lay in the smouldering remains of a tie fighter, crashed on an unknown planet. Fear racing through her, she worked to calm her breathing, trying to use the Force to help push away a section of the control panel from across her back. Once free, she shakily stood, peering into the dark forest, not sure where to turn for help- if there even was help. Blood trickled from a cut in her arm, and bruises bloomed across her body, painful reminders of her survival. 

Carefully, Rey poked through the remains of the smoking, sparking, control panel, desperately hoping there was something of the radio systems to salvage. She worked quickly andt efficiently, but found little of worth, her progress impeded by an aching head and blurry vision. 

A loud moan drew her attention. Kylo Ren lay in the rubble a few feet away, half buried beneath one of the wings. Dropping her pathetic finds, she ran to him, worry pushing her forward. 

“Kylo!” she said as she knelt beside him, fingers desperately working at his throat to find a pulse.

Unexpectedly, his hand gripped her arm with hard strength and she jumped. He took a ragged breath before addressing her.

“I can’t… get up. My leg. It’s not right.” Kylo struggled with the words, knuckles white with pain. 

Rey wrenched free of his grasp, moving to push at the rubble pinning him down, It barely budged, and the small movement made Kylo howl with pain.

“Sorry, sorry! It’s too big. I don’t know if I can do it.” she said, panicking. 

“Use. the. force.” he grit out, reaching out a shaking hand towards the metal, making it rock. 

With a deep breath Rey reached out as well, her fear and panic mixing with his pain in the Force. Together they focused their turbulent emotions, lifting the wreckage and tossing it away. Rey stumbles as it dropped, her head spinning. Sinking to her knees next to Kylo Ren, she struggled to stay upright. Slowly the world stopped spinning as a cool strength flooded into her. With the clear head came the realization that her companion was doing worse, having lent her some of his stregnth in the Force.

“Can’t pass out now, Rey. Gotta get us out of here. Don’t sleep. Your head is hurt. Let’s go.” Kylp said, in broken panting gasps. 

Using the Force to the best of her ability, she half levitated, half dragged Kylo Ren out of the clearing and into the night. A sparse standing of trees bordered the clearing, but Rey hesitated to stay so close to the crash scene. A half lucid Kylo Ren agreed that it wasn’t wise to stay in the cover, they risked too much staying so close to the crash. He passed out as she moved him across a grassy field and down a rock strewn hill. To Rey’s relief a stream trickled by at the base of the hill and she dumped Kylo in an undignified heap, making sure his leg was stretched out, to drink deeply. Once sated, she sat next to him in the night’s twilight glow, struggling to stay awake. She’d hit her head, hard, when Kylo had thrown her against the tree during their fight in the snow on the Starkiller. By the throbbing pain pulsing through her, she was pretty sure she’d hit it at some point in the crash as well. Sleeping was bad when when you had a head injury. Everyone knew that, she thought as the darkness crept in once more. 

 

…

 

Pain strengthens one’s connection to the darkside. It is a gateway to anger, and unleashes the dark flow of the force, giving one power untold. Kylo Ren had been taught to relish and nurse his pain; not to give into it in despair, but to nurse it into a weapon to use to his advantage. He was seriously beginning to rethink his relationship with pain, however. He woke to more pain than he’d ever felt before. It felt like every cell in his body ached from an uncountable number of bruises. His face burned where Rey’s lightsaber had scorched a path across his nose and cheek. He’d inhaled enough smoke to develop a sore throat. His left side throbbed and burned from the hit he’d endured from Chewbacca, and dried blood matted the cloth there. The pain from his right leg eclipsed his other discomforts. It bloomed bright and hot, shooting up his leg with each breath he took. Carefully, he reached out with the Force to ascertain exactly who bad the break was. He determined his tibia had cracked, a clean break, and his fibula had simply cracked. The larger bone, however, was not properly aligned. Steeling himself, he used the Force to nudge the bone back into place, screaming at the increased burst of pain. The bone slid obediently into place, and the pain ebbed, but continued to flow, leaving him panting.

His scream had jolted Rey awake. The girl staggered to her feet, hand groping for her lightsaber, robes a torn, sooty mess, hair a wild halo around her face, spilling out of her buns. He had never seen anyone more ridiculously beautiful. She quickly realized that they were not being attacked, and relaxed, turning to him in concern.

“Kylo, are you alright?”

He laughed, the sound a broken rasp, causing every muscle pain. Her cool hand felt his forehead, testing for fever. She pulled away after a moment, relieved with what she found but wary of his reactions. More tentatively she reached a hand towards his leg, and he hissed as her hand tentatively brushed it. 

“Your wounds need to be dressed. We can’t risk your getting an infection.” she stated. 

“That wouldn’t be pleasant, no. Unfortunately, I haven’t exactly seen any med droids lurking about.” he snarked, breathing carefully, doing his best to draw in the shards of his pain.

“I don’t even know where we are!” she said, head in her hands.

“I do. Well, I have a pretty good idea, anyways.” Kylo said before pointing to the hazy purple band stretching across the sky. “Not too many planets have purple rings. We’ll need to wait until dark to be sure, but I think we’re in a pretty quiet, remote sector of the galaxy, on a pleasure planet.”

“Pleasure planet?” Rey said, eyebrows pulling together in wary confusion.

“Yes, a form of one, anyways. Some of the Galaxy’s richest own planets, or large shares in planets, that are used as resorts- pleasure planets. Some are used for hunting reserves, while others have more urban pursuits. General Hux’s family owns a share in one, and if I’m not wrong that’s where we are now.”

“So, we’re probably not going to find a med droid anytime soon then?” she asked, hope fading.

“No.” he said, tiredly closing his eyes.

“I can do it. I can fix you.” Rey declared.

Feeling the determination behind her words, his mouth turned down into a frown. She seemed insistent on saving him, on helping him, of seeing light where there was none, and he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“Why?” 

Rey rocked back on her heels, shocked.

“Why? What do you mean, why?” she asked.

“Why are you so bent on fixing me? Why didn’t you run from me, let fall into the snow and die?”

“Because you’re worth saving, Kylo Ren. I know you are.” she said.

“Even after what I did to… Han.” he said, choking on the words.

Through the Force, he could feel her sadness roll over him, coaxing out his own. She looked down at him, tears shining in her eyes, choosing her words with care. He waited, working hard to wrap his heart in a slippery armour of anger. It didn’t stand a chance against the onslaught of her own mix of anger, longing, pity, hope.

“He thought you were worth saving. Han didn’t give up on you. I won’t shame his memory by giving up. It’s not what he would want.”

Kylo had no response, suddenly worn out. He closed his eyes, but listened as she made her way back to the stream, kneeling to drink. To his surprise, she came back to his side, hands cupped carefully together, holding water. She patiently waited as he struggled back into a half sitting position, grunting through the pain. Gingerly placing his lips against her proffered hands, he sipped, letting the cool water sooth his throat, eagerly tipping his head back to catch each drop as she tilted her joined hands for him. Wordlessly, Rey made several trips back and forth from the stream, making sure that his thirst was quenched before moving to sit down next to him once more.

“We need a plan.” 

“Staying in the sun all day wouldn’t be wise.” he agreed.

“We’re too close to the crash site still.” Rey said, looking up the hill.

“Yes, we need to move along. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to go scout the crash site for anything useful first.” 

“I can do that.” she said, and he suddenly remembered that she’d lived as a scavenger as he felt her relief at something familiar slide towards him through the Force. 

“Good. You’ll do that this evening, though if you approach the site and sense anyone else is there, clear out as soon as possible.”

“Oh, believe me, I have no intention of getting caught.” she said with a toss of her head. 

“Then we can be on our way. Try to find me something to use as a crutch.”

“I’m dressing your wounds before I go.”

“Fine. And then once you’re back we’ll be on our way. If we’re lucky we’ll come across a lodge. We should follow this stream towards it’s source, see if we can find anything that way.” 

“Fine.” Rey agreed.

Nervousness and determination pour off of her as she puts on a brave face and unwraps the bindings on her arms, splashing into the water just a bit down stream to scrub her hands and the cloth. Once clean, she comes back up the hill, pulling her hair back into proper buns, water dripping from her. 

Together, they work on undressing him. Rey works as gently as she can pulling off his right boot, but he still cries out, hot tears running down his face. Removing his pants almost causes him to blackout. He’s in so much pain that he doesn’t worry about being embarrassed. Pink blooms on her cheeks, but she makes no comment and steadily avoids looking anywhere in the direction of his black briefs. 

His leg is no longer bent at an odd angle, but it is not pretty by a long shot, bloody and bruised. The boot is repurposed as a water carrier, after it is rinsed out. Kylo grimaces at the thought of what germs and bacteria may be lurking in the smelly leather, but it’s better than nothing. He just hopes that there’s still a first aid kit in the wreckage with a good dose of penicillin. With the utmost care, Rey washes his leg, and uses part of her arm wrappings along with two good sized, sturdy sticks from a nearby tree to create a tourniquet. 

Once this is done, he feels wrung out, ready for a break, but to proud to ask. She is made even more determined by her success. With steady hands Rey removes his belt and cloak before helping Kylo peel off his grey tunic. It sticks unpleasantly to the wound in his side, making it ooze blood, turning the side of the fabric an unpleasant black. She takes this in stride, calmly rinsing it out in the stream, laying it on some rocks to dry in the hot sun. She spends less time tending to his side, rinsing it before wrapping it in the last of her fabric. 

Moving out of the sun and into the shade of a nearby stand of trees uses the last of Kylo’s strength. He watches Rey head towards the crash site with half closed eyes. She is barely out of sight as he lets a fitful sleep claim him. 


	3. On a Planet Far, Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the life of post-battle Poe. He is tired, and preoccupied with a certain ex-storm trooper in the med wing. And General Organa is making plans for the future.

Sleep leaves Poe feeling only marginally restored. He rolls out of his bunk and makes his way to the fresher with wooden, automatic steps, thinking instead of another man, still sleeping, in the med wing a building over. As he strips in front of the fresher stall BB-8 responds to his question with a series of chirps and whistles. Finn is stable, but still asleep. His surgeons believe the work they’d done to his spine was a success, but they wouldn’t know for sure until he woke. General Organa was requesting his presence, but ordered him to have breakfast first.

Fifteen minutes later, dressed and feeling a little more clear headed, he took his rumbling stomach to the mess hall. More than one fellow pilot stopped him on his way for a quiet word, a fistbumb and loud exclamation, or a back thumping hug. His reception in the mess hall was just as colorful as fellow pilots, techs, and soldiers cheered for their favorite pilot. He took it all in stride, returning the hugs and handshakes, passing on words of praise and condolences as he passed through the crowded hall assembled for the morning meal. His heart hurt as he glanced around the room- full, but diminished after their great battle.

A service droid handed him a tray with his usual fare, a steaming cup of caf next to a bowl of fluffy rice and beans with a small bowl of fruit on the side. A few of the pilots from Red Squadron waved him over to their table, and he ate in the company of his men and women, listening to their tales of battle with half an ear, his attention wandering again and again to a boy laying in the medbay. They were polite enough not to mention it, even if more than one of them sent him a concerned look. 

He did not have to wait long outside of the General’s office before her aide waved him in, shutting the door behind him. 

“Poe Dameron. Come in.” General Organa said, standing from her seat behind her desk.

Poe gave her a smart, serious salute before taking the chair she motioned him to.

“Good morning, General. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

She gave out a short bark of laughter in response, a rare smile playing across her lips. He let himself relax, soaking in her pleasure. 

“Poe, you’ve already done so much for me, and for the Resistance. I wanted to personally thank you for your skill, heroic actions, and great leadership during the assault on Starkiller base yesterday. You have gone above and beyond in the last few days.” She said, patting the data padd holding the report he’d compiled before crashing the night before. 

“It is my honor, General.” 

“And your honor strengthens us, and our cause. I think you’ve earned a damn long vacation, Poe, but unfortunately there’s still so much to be done.” 

“Vacations can wait until we’re all safe and free of the First Order.” Poe said. 

“As you know, there’s been a new potential Jedi that has emerged in the last few days- Rey. She did not return with us.”

Poe’s brows furrowed in concern. Rey was Finn’s friend, and a great potential ally. 

“Does the First Order have her?” 

“We don’t know. It’s only been 16 hours since everything went down, so our surveillance and recon teams are still monitoring comms and tracking the fleeing First Order ships. So far we haven’t come across any chatter on her, though we are looking for it. We know she and your friend Finn fought… Kylo Ren, on Starkiller’s surface. We were able to retrieve Finn, as you know, but Chewie and the soldiers with them did not find Rey or Kylo Ren in the short time they had.”

“And Kylo Ren?” Poe asked.

“Purported dead, according to the First Order chatter. We tracked a Tie fighter going in and then shortly out of their last known coordinates but were unable to track it further. My son is not dead, I’d feel it if he were. The counsel agrees, we need to find him, as soon as possible. I wanted you to know that we’re searching, and once we have even half a clue, we’re going to need to send out a search party. I’d like you to lead that mission.”

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Poe. I appreciate your service, and I want you to know that you have my trust. I know you've earned your rest, but this isn't a job I could give to just anyone.”

“I understand, and it is my honor.”

General Leia Organa smiled at him, a tired but heartfelt gesture, and he felt as if he’d just been given a benediction. After a reverent shake of her hand, he wandered back towards the room the other fellow pilot squadron leaders used as an office. He had condolence missives to write and personnel to oversee. 

He didn’t get the chance to go back to his bunk until late in the afternoon. Instead, he headed towards the laundry rooms. Bev, the dry cleaning clerk, had his - now Finn’s - jacket waiting, cleaned and mended. When Finn had been shuttled to the med ward, one of his friend’s there had the presence of mind to hold onto it, giving it to him when he’d stopped to check on Finn before bunking down for a few hours rest. Bev’s assistant had been happy to take the late night order, declaring the garment repairable despite the lightsaber gash. As he held the pliant leather in his arms he wished Finn was as easily fixed. 

The med droid made a minimal fuss before agreeing to let him into Finn’s small room in the intensive care ward. He entered with his heart in his throat, disappointed to find the younger man still sleeping. The droid helpfully informed him that his vitals were as steady as could be expected, but he’d yet to wake. 

The young stormtrooper was thoroughly bandaged but looked surprisingly peaceful as he slept. Poe stood over him, willing him to heal, to wake so he could see his intense, trusting gaze once more. Even though they’d known each other for such a short amount of time, the young man had impressed him with his bravery, his capacity to love, his strength of character despite his heavy indoctrination and conditioning by the First Order. Being a stormtrooper wasn’t just a choice, it was a hard, cold way of life that was hammered into the stolen youth’s minds, burned into their souls. And yet Finn had broken free. Poe was intrigued, absolutely captivated. 

After many moments, or many hours, Poe had lost track, the pilot felt the stirrings of hunger and tiredness press in. He gently draped the jacket on a chair in the corner before turning back to say good bye. A smile grew on his lips as he remembered a fairy tale his mother had once told him, of a princess woken by a prince’s kiss. After a moment’s hesitation, Poe took a deep breath, gathering the strength of his hope, and pressed his warm dry lips against Finn’s for just a moment. He straightened, looking down with his heart in his throat, fingers pressed against his lips as if to hold onto the brief kiss. Finn continued to sleep, peaceful and still. With a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders, Poe left in search of his dinner. 


	4. An Uneasy Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Rey or Kylo are happy to be stranded on a planet together, but if they're going to make it off cooperation will be key. Or Rey will kill Kylo out of frustration first, it's a toss up.

After three hours of hobbling along the winding river’s path, Kylo Ren had decided that when- definitely not if, this was going to happen- he saw Hux next he was going to rip his sniveling little heart out. He let his anger swirl around him, fueled by both his physical pain and his frustrations.  
“Cut it out, Kylo.” Rey said, stopping to glare at him.   
He glared right back at her.  
“Hux is going to pay.”  
“Damn right he is. And I shouldn’t have to in the meantime. Drop the stones.”  
Kylo Ren hesitated, considering his options, but gave into her demand, letting the stones levitating around him fall harmlessly to the ground.   
“Happy now?” He asked, voice dripping with venom.  
“No. No, I’m not. I’m stranded on a hunting planet with you, dark sith apprentice. My home on Jakku is I don’t even know how far away, and Finn probably thinks I’m dead. If he’s not dead, that is. Thank’s to you.” Her glare went to a whole new level of unhappy, and he could feel the unspoken final jab lying between them, unspoken.   
He nodded, ignoring the pang of pain in his chest as he pushed away the thought of his father falling.   
“I don’t want to be here any more than you do, Rey. We can help each other. My master- he’s pushed me away, thinks I’ve failed. He’s disowned me. I can feel it. There can only be two- master and apprentice. Let me be your master, Rey. Let me teach you. And then together, we’ll find a way off the planet to go wreak vengeance on the ones who dared trap us here.”  
Seeing the skepticism in her eyes he stepped forward, which turned out to be more of a stumble, really, as his hurt leg threatened to give way under him on the slippery gravel. He felt despair twist in his gut as she laughed at him.  
“Big words for a man who can’t even walk properly.”   
“I’m not lying, Rey. Here, I can help you. Close your eyes, reach out in the Force. Gather it around you and think of Finn, of how he makes you feel, and reach out, see if you can still feel him.”  
“Doing this won’t make me your apprentice.” She said, eyes narrowed, her tone half implying a question.   
“No.”  
“Good.”  
Kylo watched as Rey steadied herself, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. She drew on the light side of the Force, and he could feel it’s power fill the air around them, causing a scattering of dry leaves to float around them as she pulled on the Force in their surroundings, casting a wider and wider circle, searching for her friend. He couldn’t help but feel awe in the face of such raw power, even if it was light. He steadied himself, reaching out in the Force, reaching for the light, letting his will join hers, shaping and focusing the direction of her mental search. The call went out like ripples, and they were still, focusing on their breathing and the thrum of life around them as she sifted through the contents of the universe, looking for one lone renegade stormtrooper. Finally, they felt the familiar warmth of Finn’s mind. The answering consciousness was dull, but alive. He settled back into his body, feeling winded. He hadn’t used anything approaching the light side of the Force in so long. Its absence made him feel empty.   
Tears flowed in dusty tracks down Rey’s face as she opened her warm brown eyes. She still thrummed with energy, almost glowing with its breathtaking serenity.   
“He’s alive, Kylo. He’s out there.”  
“I know, I felt it too.” He said, unnerved by the calmness of the Light side.   
“I won’t be your apprentice.” Her eyes brooked no argument as she stood with the sun shining brightly behind her, wind swirling through her hair, and the power of the force still thrumming through her veins. “If we’re going to get off this damn rock we’re going to have to work together.”  
He nodded, seeing no reason to deny the truth.   
“You’re strong in the force, but you don’t have any instruction, any finesse.”  
“And you’re a spoiled brat who hasn’t had to fend for himself in the wilderness before.”  
A small flash of anger burned through Kylo, but as he looked at her, hands defiantly holding onto her makeship staff, daring him to prove her wrong, the offense fell away, and he laughed. Rey had a lot of spirit. Does an apprentice need to know she is one to learn? She narrowed her eyes at him, and he quickly spoke, not wanting to make her angry. They would need each other to survive and leave this damn planet.   
“No, you’re right. I’ve had to fend for myself on starships full of political sharks, and in battle arenas, but I’ve never been stranded on a planet before. We both have plenty to learn from each other if we’re going to get out of here.”  
“Alright. Then we should start looking for shelter. You said that there should be a hunting post nearby?”  
“Yes, though it could be anything from a blind in a tree with a cabinet of supplies to a cabin. They’re spaced to be accessed in about a day's journey.”  
“You can barely move. Let’s get you settled, and I’ll scout the area. If I find one that’s inadequate then we can move on.”  
Kylo hated feeling weak and extraneous, but he couldn’t argue with her plan. To his petty satisfaction, it turned out the desert dweller didn’t know as much about forests as he did, which he had to admit wasn’t a huge amount. Together they set out into the woods, which ended up being even more miserable going than following the stream, despite the respite of more shade. The ground was less even, they had to trudge through piles of dead leaves and over fallen trees and rocks and around bushes, not an easy task when using a makeshift crutch that wasn’t quite tall enough. His side ached, and he could feel blood oozing out of the wound. He didn’t want to admit that he was beginning to feel dizzy.  
Rey, however, was feeling fine, physically at least. Her emotions were another matter. She was absolutely enthralled with the riot of green all around them, invigorated by the life that flowed around them. It did not completely distract her from her thoughts, however. She had not know Han Solo or Finn long, but they had quickly become her friends, bulwarks of strength as her life blew up around her.   
The light saber lashed to her waist was a heavy burden. She’d never realized she was Force sensitive, she’d never wanted to be special. She’d just wanted her family, people to love and belong with. Now, knowing she was Force sensitive, so many things fell into focus: her ability to read people, to get out of sticky situations, her unerring agility in a fight. Her isolation had been a chrysalis, and for a brief moment, she thought she’d escaped it, ready to fly with people she loved. Instead, she found herself grounded, with her worst enemy to boot.  
She could feel the soft thrum of the life flowing around her, a reminder of her place in the force. Kylo bled anger, despair, and loathing, but under it all, she could still feel a sliver of light. Rey reflected on the wisdom of letting him teach her. Everyone always said the Dark Side of the Force was seductive, easy to fall into, but from where she stood, it just looked like pain, and that, well, she had enough of that already. Could she be light, when she knew she had such pain in her own soul? The Force was always portrayed as Dark or Light, and people spoke of the light overcoming the darkness, bringing balance. Was the absence of one side really balance? Didn’t balance mean that both had to exist, countering each other? Could both exist in one vessel? She needed a teacher. Maybe letting Kylo teach her some things wouldn’t hurt. It didn’t mean she would give in to the darkness, not if she found a balance.   
Rey stopped up short, realizing that the subject of her musings was no longer trailing along behind her.   
“Kylo?” she said, turning back.   
He had stopped some fifty feet back, and sat on a large fallen tree branch she had walked around. She hurried towards the slumped, black figure. He was breathing heavily, and the hand clasped to his side was sticky with blood. When he looked up at her his face was pale and streaked with sweat.   
“Kylo, you should have said something!” she said, angry at herself for not realizing his pain earlier.  
“Hux is going to pay.” he muttered through clenched teeth before falling forward.  
Rey caught him against her shoulder, his weight knocking the air from her lungs.  
“Oh kriff. What am I going to do now?”


	5. Dreams…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fever dreams, Kylo Ren edition!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've had this sitting in my drive for a month or so, and finally got around to writing the last paragraph. Here ya go!

Kylo was on fire. The hot flames licked up his legs, settling around his middle as he sat up on the burning pyre. He tugged at the pain, striving to turn it into strength as his master had taught him, but it raged out of his control, consuming him. Snoke stood in the shadows, his jagged laugh tearing at the corners of Kylo’s mind.

 

_ You’ve failed. _

 

_ No, master! I did it! I killed my father as you demanded of me.  _

 

_ You failed! _

 

The sound of his master’s angry howl reverberated around him, cutting into him, fueling his fear and despair. 

 

_ Such a pathetic little thing you are. You had to ask him for his help in killing him. You hesitated.  _

 

_ But I did it, Master! I did it! For you! For the Order! _

 

_ There can only be two. You know this. She is stronger than you. The untrained desert brat bested you. You let her live. Did you think I wouldn’t know? That I wouldn’t feel her power? There can only be two. _

 

_ I can train her, turn her into a powerful weapon for our cause! _

 

_ You can do nothing. Weak! Pathetic. My apprentice no longer.  _

 

Kylo groaned as his Master’s presence faded, his disapproval clear. Shame filled him, along with desperation, his hatred a sharp blade pointed at his own heart. His master deserting him was his worst nightmare come to life. What would he do without the First Order? Snoke was cruel and firm, but he was wise and strong, and he had taught Kylo much, still had much to teach him. Snoke couldn’t cast him off. Not now! Not after what he’d done, who he’d killed!

 

For the first time in a long time, he could not control his pain. It refused to yield to him, slipping out of his grip, burning him as it went. He struck out, furious at his lack of control. The world spun around him, an agony of darkness.

 

He groaned, lying in a sea of flame, struggling to gain faculty of his senses. He strained, reaching towards the blackened shore, pulling himself out of the river of lava. One handful of pain after another, he pulled himself along, anger and resentment swirling around him, giving him strength. Once he finally pulled himself onto the burnt solid ground of Mustafar, he struggled to his feet, lava dripping off his robes, trailing behind him as he hobbled towards the twin spires that channeled the great dark energy from the river of lava flowing around it.

 

A hooded figure met him at the doors of the fortress. Kylo reached for his saber, but came up empty. A wave of pain made him lurch and the figure stepped forward, steadying him. 

 

_ Easy, Ben, easy.  _

 

He leaned against the other man’s broad shoulder and let himself be led into the fortress, out of the heat and sulfurous wind. Kylo knew the dark halls like the back of his own hand, and so, it would seem, did the man half carrying him through them, towards the bacta tank in its bowels. 

 

Darth Vader’s sanctuary had been a gift to Kylo from Snoke, years ago. It was not lightly given, it had been earned, paid for by the blood of younglings, sensitive to the Force, of those who had refused to turn to the darkside, to become Knights of Ren, and so Kylo had snuffed them out. A handful of them had submitted, deciding to join the Knights. Kylo outshone them all and had been rewarded. Snoke had declared him the head of the Knight’s of Ren and had given him a pilot with the coordinates to Mustafar, and the keycode to Lord Vader’s dark sanctuary. The victory had been bittersweet, bathed in blood, and clothed in distrust. Snoke had still refused to restore his memories on piloting, and in a rare show of holding in his temper Kylo had relented, retreating to his new base. 

 

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as they reached the central hub, the door to the bacta chamber opening in a whoosh of air. The glass to the tank was shattered, but his companion propped him up on the reclining stand anyways. Kylo refused to rest, struggling to sit up and face the man who dared help him.

 

_ I’m hardly one to talk, but you’re real stubborn you know that? _

 

The man smiled down at him, humor shining out of his grey eyes despite his sharp words. He was tall, he’d been able to meet Kylo’s height, and he looked familiar. A scar split his skin by his right eye, above a long nose and full lips. Taking a deep breath, Kylo sought to reign in his pain, to recognize him. This was Anakin! He’d waited, begged, and pleaded for his grandfather to appear to him, and now, here he was!

 

_ Luke. Luke said that he saw you once, after the Battle of Endor. He saw your force ghost. Why didn’t you come to me before? Everything I’ve done is for you, to honor your legacy, Darth Vader. _

 

_ That’s why I haven’t come to you before, kid. I’m Anakin Skywalker. Darth Vader was just a mask I put on to hide my pain. I never wanted you to follow that same path. _

 

Kylo shook his head, refusing to believe him.

 

_ No. It was you! You brought down the great Jedi Order! You brought Order to the Galaxy. _

 

_ The Jedi weren’t perfect. They lost me because they shunned personal attachments. How could I live without loving others? Without my love for my brother, Obi Wan, for my padawan Ashoka,  for Padme, my beautiful wife Padme. I don’t think that such attachments are wrong. We need to belong. But I took my attachments too far. I listened to Palpatine's whispered lies, and I became jealous. I killed the one that I loved most, my fingers reached out to strangle her. I killed her, and in killing her, I killed our future together, a future that would have included your mother, your Uncle, you.  _

 

Kylo could see the pain in his face, the regret.

 

_ But you’re my hero. I’ve only wanted to fulfil your legacy, to walk in your steps.  _

 

_ Don’t, Ben, Kylo, please. I was the Chosen One, destined to bring balance to the Force. The Sith and the Jedi were two extremes. One embraced Hate, and sought to bring order through the chaos of war. The other claimed peace, but ruled dispassionately. Luke saved me. He helped me find the balance between peace and personal attachment in my final moments. You can belong again, be loved again. Don’t throw that away. Don’t follow in my footsteps. _

 

_ Then what am I supposed to do?  _

 

_ Don’t be afraid of the light. Don’t hold onto your hate and anger. Peace is hard, and hate is easy, but there is no victory in being alone. Find your center. _

 

_ How? I killed my father! My Master has forsaken me! _

 

_ You’re a Skywalker, Ben. Have a little faith in yourself. _

 

Kylo protested as Anakin turned and walked away, but his cries didn’t slow the other man’s steps. He stopped in the doorway, the light behind him casting a soft blue halo around his wavy hair, his smile dazzling in its confidence. Kylo could see why armies followed him into battle, with the confidant way he stood, and the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

 

_ Make me proud, Kylo. Fulfil my legacy, without making my mistakes. Come back to the light, and bring balance to the Force.  _

 

Then, he was gone. Kylo pushed himself out of the chair, staggering, falling. His eyes opened as his screamed his grandfather’s name but instead of seeing Anakin, Rey knelt above him.

 

“Calm down, Kylo, calm down!”

 

“Anakin! Don’t leave me!”

 

“Anakin? No, it’s me, Rey. Calm down, please.” 

 

He tried to thrash out of her grip, but the pain in his side, down his leg only increased. 

 

“No, no, no…” he muttered, not caring what she thought of his desperation.

 

She didn’t understand. She pleaded with him to calm down, to be still, but how could he? He was here! His Force ghost! He had to go. But go where? What did his master want again? Kylo struck out in desperation, trying to reach out, but for what he’d forgotten. The heat was too much, and he fell back into sleep as Rey wiped the sweat from his brow.

 

He is a child again, sitting at a table in the corner, as usual. He listens quietly as his mother and father rage at each other, their pain bleeding into angry passion. He tries to shut out their loud voices, but their anger pushes his defenses away. He tries to focus on the ball in his hand, willing it to levitate using the force. It isn’t budging. Jaina or Jacen could have done it. They had been much stronger than him. Even now that they were dead they were stronger than him! His father and mother paid him no attention, they still cared more for their precious twins, even though they were gone. Gone, gone, GONE! Dead, dead, DEAD!

 

Fired by his rage, the ball hovers in the air, and with his final internal shout of anger, it shoots out of his control, flying into a vase. Han and Leia both jump at the sound of shattering glass, and his father draws his blaster, surveying the room for danger. Kylo sinks into the chair, afraid, yet hopeful, that he would draw their gaze. His mother is quick to see he had shattered the vase.

 

_ “Put that infernal blaster away, Han. Look, it was just an accident.” _ his mother says, hands going to her hips, focusing her disappointment onto him.

 

_ “Ben! What have I told you about throwing balls in the house?” _ his father angrily demands.

 

_ “I didn’t throw it!”  _

 

_ “Kriff, I bet you didn’t! You used your magic force voodoo and it just happened to hit the most expensive thing in the room, now did it?” _

 

_ “Han! Don’t take it out on him, he’s still learning control.” _

 

_ “Well, he needs to learn a little faster!”  _

 

_ “He’s a child! You weren’t perfect when you were 5!” _

 

_ “At his age, Jacen and Jaina could…” _ his father’s words die off in a hurry, but they still hover in the room, the AT-AT no one wants to acknowledge is tearing them all apart. 

 

Han takes a deep breath, and looks down at him, sadness in his eyes.

 

_ “Look kid, I’m sorry. Just... Just try to be more careful, ok?” _

 

_ “Come on, Ben. Help me get the droid to clean this up.” _

 

He follows his mother and does what she asks. Later that night, he pretends to be busy and ignore his parent’s whispered conversation as they finally agree to send him to Luke for training. He hates them for being willing to ship him off. He ignores his relief at knowing he won’t have to hear them fight anymore, he won’t see their disappointed looks, or sighs. He can do better, be better than the twins ever could have been. He’ll show them. 

 

His fevered brain takes him back to Luke’s little Jedi training camp. He’d been just one boy in the middle of a hundred other Force sensitives. Luke only had three other helpers, so he never got to spend as much time with his Uncle as he’d wanted to. Instead, he had the quiet whisper in his thoughts to sooth him. It was important, the whispered voice would say, to not let any of the other’s know of their friendship. Ben had a hard time meditating, finding that quiet, mindless spot that the others accessed so easily. Instead, his friend would whisper to him, tell him how strong, how cunning he was, give him pointers on how to succeed against the others. 

 

The others didn’t smoothly accept him into their group when he joined. Some of them knew who he was, either as Leia Organa’s son, or as Luke’s nephew, and looked at him with wide, starry eyes, expecting only the best from him. Others knew him for his relatives and turned their noses up at him for it in jealousy. The ones who would have welcomed his friendship were soft- too kind and trusting, too sympathetic, to dull. He spent a lot of time alone with his data pad, combing through the information on the old Jedi Order that the Rebellion had gifted to Luke’s new Academy. As he grew, he reveled in information on history, and geography, on the old Jedi philosophies. He memorized pad after pad of information on the old saber techniques. The librarian of this small collection would smile at him fondly, and would give him tips on how and where to research. It was one of the few places he felt at home, and at peace.

 

Ben loved their time practicing with their sabers, even though they were given ones with weak, pale blue blades. He relished the pull and burn of his muscles as he pushed his body to its limit, his mind becoming clear as he let the Force work in sync with him, harnessing it to defeat his opponents. He rarely lost, and when he did lose against another youngling, it was only a momentary defeat, until the next time they crossed sabers. 

 

His mind whirls around and around on loop, stuck on the images of the younglings he’d defeated, red saber buzzing in his hand. Shri with her long limbs and graceful form. Danni who couldn’t walk ten paces without tripping, but had razor sharp reflexes with a saber. Quil’ti’ami who lost every single match because he didn’t want anyone to feel like a loser. He’d cut them down, one by one that day. Their fear had been no match for his fury. He’d never felt anything like the dark strength washing through him, as his imaginary friend had cackled and cheered in the back of his mind. His saber had sunk through their flesh like a knife through soft cheese. 

 

He twirled around the dark clearing, leaping over fallen bodies, using the Force to pull escaping younglings towards him. His master’s lay at his feet, shock on their bloody faces. Darkness pools in his belly, a swirling mixture of horror, fear, and satisfaction. He beat them. He’d cut them down, and he  _ liked it. _ What kind of monster had he become?!

 

The crackle of a lightsaber igniting caught his attention. He lost focus of the bodies around him as a figure stepped out of the shadowy trees, draped in a brown robe, blue lightsaber casting an eerie glow.

 

_ Anakin? _

 

_ No. _

 

The hood dropped, revealing Rey, determined eyes locked on him. 

 

_ You will pay for what you’ve done. _

 

He lifted his own lightsaber, countering her attack, but she moved forward, relentlessly. He jumped higher than he ever had, clearing the stand of trees in a single bound, and she followed, her saber aimed for his heart. He dodged the blow, whirling around in a fast attack. She saw him coming, blue meeting red. Hux stood nearby, laughing, sneering, and scoffing. Phasma joined him, her laugh jagged. His knights fell into line behind her, kneeling to her, turning their backs on him. He roared in anger, but could not pursue them with Rey’s lightsaber flashing towards him.

  
They wrecked their way through the snowy forest, as all the strength slipped from his bones. He used every position he had ever practiced, from every discipline, but she matched him blow for blow. He lunged forward in desperation, forgetting form and discipline, desperate to top her righteous berserker rage. Again, her blade blocked his, and she pushed downward forcing him into the snow. With a sickening hiss his cracked kyber crystal gave way in a burst of red sparks. The blue blade cut into his face, into his side, and he crumpled into the snow, and everything faded to a white nothingness.


End file.
